


To Thine Own Heart

by DarkReyna16



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, From the "What If?" Night Time Wonderings Collection, Ozai Wins, Resistance AU, alternate title: cool ideas I do not have time to flesh out into full fics, can you tell that I'm a sucker for espionage yet?, the four nations become The Phoenix Empire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:13:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25751908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkReyna16/pseuds/DarkReyna16
Summary: The world is reborn in flame as the Phoenix Empire. The Fire Nation wins. The other nations fall. And the Avatar hasn't been heard from in a hundred years.Zuko should be satisfied. His father has gotten every single thing he's ever wanted, and Zuko, as his son and the crown prince, should support him whole-heartedly. So why can't he ignore the guilty twisting in his gut when the furious eyes of a righteous waterbender crashes his father's party and takes him hostage?
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 108





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So. What would happen if Ozai won, and gained control of the entire world?
> 
> What if Zuko had never spoken up at that fateful strategy meeting, and got to remain his father's obedient son?
> 
> What if there was no one around to wake Aang from that iceberg, and the survivors of the shattered nations had to go to ground to plan a rebellion?
> 
> I'm just saying. It's interesting to think about.
> 
> Enjoy~
> 
> ~Reyna

These parties were hideously boring.

In fact, ‘party’ was a loose interpretation of the word. It was more a gathering of the wealthiest Phoenix Empire nobility, packed into one chamber to preen and plot and kiss up to the Phoenix King and his kin. Everyone might as well have been wearing masks, with how fake they all were.

Zuko made the mistake of letting out a sigh, and was promptly reprimanded with a judging look from his sister, who sat beside him, at their father’s right hand. Of course.

Azula was loving this, naturally–she was presented the best gifts, people bowing left and right to her, practically tripping over themselves to earn favor that she wouldn’t bestow upon anyone. She only spoke at length to her friends: Ty Lee, who commanded the attention of nearly every young man in the room, and Mai, who sulked in a corner of the room, studiously avoiding Zuko’s gaze as he avoided hers. Their break-up hadn’t been pleasant; it was just best for them to pretend the other didn’t exist when they were forced into close proximity with each other.

‘ _How did I get here?_ ’ Zuko wondered, not for the first time. If he had to hazard a guess, he would probably pinpoint it to that war meeting, all those years ago. He had been instructed not to speak by his uncle, words Zuko heeded, even as he had to listen to how a whole division of new recruits were to be offered up like sacrifices–as a _diversion!_ Injustice had boiled within him, and he had almost stood up and proclaimed this to be a heartless maneuver, but at the last second, he caught his uncle’s gaze.

Iroh shook his head, his eyes flashing in warning, and to Zuko’s everlasting shame, he held his tongue.

As planned, the new recruits were slaughtered, and the war waged on, until finally, with the help of Sozin’s Comet…the rest of the world fell to the Fire Nation’s might. Thus, the Phoenix Empire was born from the ashes.

“A small sacrifice to further our great nation,” Azula had said when Zuko had made the mistake of confiding in her. “I imagine those recruits were happy to give their lives. Now that we’ve won, they will go down in history as war heroes.”

Her callousness shouldn’t have been shocking, but late at night, when he couldn’t sleep, Zuko often wondered: was an empire that so carelessly disregarded its own soldiers really so great?

He dared not voice these concerns to anyone–to even think such thoughts was treasonous in their own right, and he was the _crown prince_. To voice such opinions he was half-ashamed of would be unprecedented.

‘ _Uncle would’ve understood,_ ’ Zuko thought, thinking wistfully of the man who had been more of a father to him than his own, who had mysteriously disappeared on his last mission to what was previously the Earth Kingdom—now known as New Ozai—and hadn’t been heard from since. Uncle Iroh, a little strange with his tea obsession, but still genial and full of wisdom. Zuko hadn’t understood half the life lessons Iroh had imparted upon him when he was younger, but now that he was gone, Zuko found himself wishing he had understood then as he did now.

“Don’t look so sour, Zuzu,” Azula leaned over to mutter to him as they watched the guests mingle below their raised dais. “It’s a party. It wouldn’t kill you to smile.”

Zuko bared his teeth in a sarcastic grin, and Azula laughed at him.

“Really, relax,” she insisted, arching a brow. “I hear we’re supposed to have special entertainment tonight.”

Zuko was just about to ask if their father planned to strip himself of his robes and treat them all to a song and dance–he had no idea where this sarcastic streak came from, really–when the fire in the room suddenly dimmed, and two of his father’s aides stepped into the center of the room.

“Esteemed guests, please, gather round!” The tall one called, smirking at his stout partner as they waved people forward. “We have prepared a special treat for you all tonight!”

“Yes indeed!” The stout one chimed in, his voice as oily as his smile. “In honor of the tenth anniversary of the birth of the Phoenix Empire, we have, for your entertainment, an honorary dance!”

“From the poles of Azulon as well!” The tall one added, and the crowd rippled as a set of guards entered, leading in what looked like a woman, though the sheer fabric trailing from the wide brimmed hat sort of made it hard to tell. “By the glory of the Phoenix Empire, we present to you the wintry dancer, The Painted Lady!”

He stripped away the hat, and suddenly, she was revealed.

Zuko stared.

He had only seen Water Tribe people—back when the Water Tribes still existed—depicted in history books, and honestly, they did not do the women justice. Or maybe this was just an exceptionally pretty one. Whatever it was, he could not stop himself from taking in every inch of her: though her skin was painted with intricate, crimson swirls, the rich brown of her skin was still plainly visible where her dancer’s top and skirt ended, and her dark brown hair, instead of being prim and tidy like a Phoenix Empire's noble young lady, was loose and wild. Her head was bowed, her eyes closed, as if she were praying, but as the musicians were queued, and the intro to a song began to play, her eyes snapped open.

Fire danced in her vivid blue eyes, and for a moment she stared up at the raised dais where the royal family sat–where Zuko sat. For just a second, her eyes touched upon him, and Zuko felt himself freeze, his heart beating wildly in his chest. This…he had never felt this way before…

Before he could even catch his breath, she had looked away, and began to dance, her body rolling to the beat of the drum, drawing a scarf of sheer fabric between her hands as she commanded the floor, every step quick, decisive…powerful.

“Close your mouth, or people will see that you’re drooling,” Azula said lazily, and Zuko shut his mouth with an audible snap, rubbing his chin with his sleeve, though he was almost certain that she was exaggerating. He was _not_ drooling over that Azulon Poles woman…not at all…

The beat was relentless, carrying the Painted Lady’s steps faster and faster, her spins so quick that Zuko became dizzy watching her, but he couldn’t turn away. She was truly an artist, an athlete–her muscles bunched and coiled with each move she executed, and yet, she made it look so graceful, so seamless.

The drums reached fever pitch, and faster and faster she danced, until finally–

The drums stopped. So did she, frozen in place, a hand arcing towards Zuko. He froze too, held by the burning look in her eyes, completely at her mercy. The room broke into applause, and Zuko stood without making the conscious decision to do so. He was certain it must look strange, him descending the dais and parting the crowd as he approached the woman.

It was extremely strange for him as well, because _he wasn’t moving of his own volition._

It was only when he reached the Painted Lady, when he willingly stepped into her grasp, the fingertips of her outstretched hand pressing into his throat, that Zuko understood–somehow, some way, _she_ had done this. She had beckoned him, and he had obeyed, whether he liked it or not. (He was still trying to figure out whether he liked it or not.)

As the reality set in, and Zuko realized that he was powerless, the cheeky thing had the nerve to _smirk_ at him.

“That’s a good prince,” she said quietly, something else dancing in her eyes now: vindication.

His father apparently realized that all was not well, for his voice rang out forcefully over the confused mutterings of the guests.

“Guards!”

“Hold it!” The Painted Lady called, swirling her hand so that Zuko whipped around to face his father. “Not so fast, Phoenix King–one wrong move, and I snap the prince’s neck with a flick of my wrist.”

Zuko’s eyes widened, a cold chill running down his spine when he finally realized just how much danger he was in. He stared up at his father, his heart hammering in his throat as Ozai peered down from his dais, his cold eyes shrewd as he apparently assessed the situation. The longer he stayed silent, the more nervous Zuko became. Yes, Azula was the favorite–Zuko was well aware of it. But even so, he was still Ozai’s son. Surely Ozai wouldn’t sacrifice his own son like this, right?

Right?

The Painted Lady didn’t appear to have the patience to wait for Zuko’s father to react.

“If it pleases your Kingliness,” she drawled in the most disrespectful tone possible, “the prince and I are going to go for a walk. If we are followed–if I think for _one_ second that I’m being pursued–your prince dies on the spot.” From the corner of his eye, Zuko could see her raise something, but he couldn’t quite make out what it was. “Death to the Empire!”

She threw it. Suddenly, the room was engulfed in a smog so thick that Zuko couldn’t even see his own nose on his face. There was shouting and confusion, and fire blasts that only seemed to make the smog worse, almost as if it was engineered that way. Coughing, Zuko felt himself being dragged back, again against his will. As shrieks and screams echoed down the hall, he was rushed past confused guards, who were there and gone so fast that they had no time to reach to what was happening. Abruptly, fresh air hit his face, and Zuko knew they were outside.

There was a shrill whistle in his ear as they crossed the palace grounds, and he could hear some kind of machine approaching, though he couldn’t twist around under his own power to see. Desperately, he struggled against the invisible bonds that held him, willing fire to his fingertips…but nothing happened. He was completely and utterly helpless, and it was terrifying.

“You got him?” Asked an unfamiliar voice as the machine sound got closer. Abruptly, Zuko realized it was the sound of a blowtorch.

“Of course I got him,” huffed his captor, sounding exasperated. “Now hurry and help me get him in.”

“All right, all right,” the voice grumbled, and for just a moment, whatever hold the Azulon Poles woman had on him slipped.

Zuko seized the opportunity, flinging fire her way. She shrieked and jumped back, and he whirled, spotting a large air balloon–A _Phoenix Empire_ air balloon! Then was this an inside job? A plot hatched by one of his father’s allies to stage a usurping of power?

“Katara!” Cried the man in the basket of the balloon as Zuko turned on the offensive, flinging fiery punches at the woman who dared to capture him and treat him like some sort of rag doll. She dodged the punches, spinning on her heels, almost as if she was dancing again. Aggravated, Zuko pulled out his advanced moves, but still she escaped him, and Zuko grew so frustrated that he spewed fire directly at her through his mouth.

But then she did something unexpected: with just a wave of her hands, she beckoned water from the lake forward…and Zuko’s spewed flames were extinguished.

He froze, shocked, and she took full advantage: before Zuko knew it, he was encased in ice, and though his hands warmed to melt it, she had made the ice too thick. _She_ did this…

Zuko stared at her as she approached, horrified, angry, and awed all at the same time.

“You,” he breathed, staring into those fierce blue eyes as she stared back up at him, no trace of fear in her face. “You’re a _waterbender!_ ”

Once again, the cheeky thing smirked. Zuko stubbornly ignored the throbbing of his heart this time.

“Surprise,” she whispered sweetly before she made a sudden move.

Pain exploded in the back of Zuko’s head, and the world went dark.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Managed to squeeze out a bit of this, mostly because I need a break from my novel, but I also need to write SOMETHING stimulating.
> 
> Consider this a warm-up. Hopefully I'll get back to my novel later this week.
> 
> In the meantime, enjoy~
> 
> ~Reyna

The world swirled in a confusion of colors and images. A dull throbbing at the back of Zuko’s skull pulsed like a heartbeat, tugging him to the surface of consciousness. But he resisted.

He didn’t want to wake up. Not when _she_ was here in his dreams instead of out there, with the simpering smiles shielding political sabotage, his sister’s duplicitous nature, his father’s… _everything._ Why couldn’t he stay here, where he was a child, still warm and safe in his mother’s grasp…?

_“You have to wake up, Zuko,”_ she whispered as he rested he head on her lap. He squeezed his eyes shut so she wouldn’t see him crying. So she wanted to abandon him even in his dreams…?

_“Why can’t I stay?”_ he begged of her. A soothing hand smoothed his hair back from his face, and he could imagine his mother’s warm smile from behind his leaking eyelids.

_“Because you don’t belong here, my beloved. You have to go. Go back…”_

_“No…Mom! Don’t go!”_

Suddenly, he was drowning. Actually drowning.

Zuko seized and jerked up, coughing and hacking to force the water from his lungs. When his eyes finally opened, they were met with vibrant blue. Blue that burned so cold that he felt himself freeze automatically.

As the woman glared at him, her face now devoid of the red paint that initially helped to seduce him right into her grasp, Zuko remembered: he had been kidnapped. This woman—this _waterbender_ —had the absolute gall to snatch him right from the palace, right from _under his father’s nose_ , and use one of the Phoenix Empire’s own war balloons to do it. Honestly, if Zuko wasn’t so pissed, he’d be a little bit impressed.

…Okay, maybe he could be both. But he wasn’t about to admit it out loud.

He opened his mouth, inhaling sharply, but the waterbender slammed her hand into his face, gripping his jaw so tight it ached.

“Go ahead,” she dared him, her eyes simmering. “Do something stupid. Give me a reason to shove an entire glacier down your throat.”

Zuko mustered up the most contemptuous glare he could muster so that she wouldn’t see him sweating. He wasn’t sure if he succeeded or not, but eventually, she let him go. He watched as she untied a scrap of fabric from her waist, not understanding its purpose until she shoved half of it into his mouth.

“There. That should stop you from talking in your sleep,” she huffed, tying the rest of it around his head. Zuko narrowed his eyes at her. He supposed he could just set the scrap on fire…but then that would risk him catching his hair and face on fire. He tried to move his arms in front of him, but they stayed stubbornly locked behind him, a telling jangle letting him know that he wouldn’t be fighting his way out of this. Any hope of escape he had disappeared when he saw the chains weighing down his ankles as well. His captor had been well-informed on how to render a firebender helpless.

He hated her. Especially when she gave him that victorious little smirk, like she owned the world. It was a smirk that reminded him of his father.

“Aww, uncomfortable? Good.” She straightened and turned away from him, heading for the war balloon’s burner. As his view of her cleared, Zuko noticed that they were not alone: there was a man on the other side of the balloon, snoring loudly. He was similar to the Azulon Poles woman in appearance, but in contrast to her red fabric, he was swathed in blue and white. His mouth was open, and a trickle of drool was steadily dripping its way down his chin. Zuko wrinkled his nose in disgust. How undignified.

The sound of soft cursing distracted Zuko, and he turned his attention back to the waterbender, who seemed to be having trouble with the burner. As she pushed her thick hair back irritably, Zuko studied her profile.

She was young, but the circles under her eyes suggested that she was old enough to know the troubles the world could bring. Zuko wondered which end of the earth she was from, and made an educated guess that she must be from the North. There were no waterbenders in the Southern Azulon Poles anymore. But this did surprise him: the Phoenix Empire had been at a standstill of sorts with the Northern Azulon Poles. Once upon a time, one of their admirals—Zuko struggled to remember his name now—had sought to conquer the place, and some sort of strange phenomenon had occurred briefly with the moon. Before they had time to panic, however, the moon returned to normal, and the siege of the North had ended in a stalemate. Because of this, aside from taxes, they were largely left alone to govern themselves, since no firebender could stand being in the place for long. Had they, perhaps, become sick of this generous arrangement and plotted this kidnapping to turn the tides in their favor…?

‘ _Uncle went on that mission,_ ’ Zuko vaguely recalled, shifting a little as he tested the bindings around his wrists. ‘ _He never did tell me what happened…_ ’

Zuko had asked, of course, because he had been curious, but after giving his report to Ozai, Iroh had refused to relive that mission for anyone. It was the strangest thing…but Zuko really shouldn’t be focused on that right now.

Keeping the waterbender in his peripheral vision, Zuko glanced around, taking in as much of his surroundings as he could. Sadly, there wasn’t much to see—from where he sat, what bit of sky that wasn’t obscured by the damn balloon was just an endless sea of stars, and he could see no land mass below. He could hear the ocean, but that didn’t really help, either; for all he knew, they could be halfway to the North Azulon Pole by now. That’s where he assumed they were going, anyway. Why else would this lone waterbender and her kin kidnap him? She couldn’t be working alone. She wouldn’t get far if she was.

When he brought his head back from its swivel, Zuko noticed that she was staring at him. He returned her glare with one of his own, hoping with all his might that the balloon would puncture. Even if he drowned, at least he would take her and the snoring oaf with him.

The waterbender exhaled shortly, her eyes narrowing in disgust.

“You were saying something about a mom while you slept,” she baldly informed him. Her eyes were critical, watching him as he tensed. “I didn’t think you had a mother. It’s always about your damn Phoenix King and his brats. To be honest, I have a hard time believing that monster ever had a queen. Are you a mistake of a mistress, or did you spawn directly from the evil of that man’s shadow?”

Smoke was emitting from his mouth. Zuko hastily swallowed back his fire and tore his gaze from her, refusing to give her the satisfaction of riling him up. That didn’t seem to deter her; she came close again, crouching down in front of him.

“You look so much like him,” she drawled. Zuko peeked at her, unable to help himself; she cradled her chin in a hand, her eyelids lowered with scorn as she inspected him. He flinched back as she reached forward with her other hand, her nail poking into his cheek. “Same face. Same bone structure. Same blood. He definitely must’ve spat you out. All you’re missing is the stupid beard.”

Zuko attempted to kick her away. When his leg only moved a fraction of an inch, grunted in frustration, the sound muffled by the damn gag she’d shoved in his mouth. His fury seemed to amuse her, judging by the smirk that tilted her lips up.

“Yeah. There’s no way you had a mother.” Her smirk faded as she abruptly sobered. “You wouldn’t have turned out this way if you did.”

Zuko stared at her. What was that supposed to mean? Just because he was his father’s son didn’t mean he was a carbon copy of the man. This insignificant woman from the ungrateful Poles was just trying to make him angry, anyway. She didn’t know him from Wan, so how could she possibly know what did or did not make him the man he was today?

As he seethed, wishing desperately for the ability to ignite things with his eyes, the waterbender tilted her head to the side.

“Then again,” she drawled, “considering the things I’ve heard about your sister, maybe your whole family is just rotten to the core.”

Zuko’s vision tunneled.

Fuck trying to keep his cool. The waterbender could say whatever she wanted about him, Azula, and even his father, but she would _not_ talk about his mother like that. Ursa had been different. She had been warm. She had been kind. And she…

Zuko would never see her again.

More than anger, more than his righteous fury, there was grief so profound that it turned his flames hotter than his rage ever could. The waterbender spotted the smoking from behind his back; with an almost lazy flick of her fingers, she doused him in water again. His hands remained warm, forcing Zuko to calm down by breathing through his nose. It did not help his temper to see the waterbender smirk once again. Too late, he realized that he had played right into her hands.

“I was wondering what it would take to make you angry.” Vindication burned in her eyes, like she had won some secret battle of wills against him. “Good to know.”

“Katara.”

The waterbender abruptly straightened, turning around. Past her, Zuko could see her accomplice straightening, wiping his chin with his wrist wrappings as he gave her a chiding look.

“Stop goading him. It’ll be a pain in my ass if he sets the basket on fire and we drop hundreds of feet into a watery grave.”

That’s right, the waterbender had a name. A strange name. Zuko refused to use it, even within the confines of his mind; she didn’t deserve the humanity of a name.

She scoffed and got to her feet, walking back to the burner.

“I wouldn’t let that happen,” she sniffed, overconfident. Zuko thought about indeed setting the basket ablaze just to prove a point, but almost as if she could read his mind— _could she?_ —her gaze cut to him once more. “I doubt he’d really want to deal with me in the ocean.”

Zuko’s glare of hatred was cut short by her kin’s scoff as he stretched.

“ _I_ don’t wanna deal with you in the ocean,” he huffed, his expression sarcastic as he regarded her. His eye color matched hers precisely; he could be no one else but her brother. That, or all Azulon Poles people really did look alike. “Now stop. We still have another day’s trip before we’re in the clear, and we don’t have time to stop for a replacement basket.”

The waterbender rolled her eyes. “No one’s gonna wreck your precious war balloon, Sokka.”

“Hey, don’t give me that. You have no idea what it took to steal this thing—”

“ _Suki_ stole it.”

“But I helped!”

“Oh yeah, cracking jokes with Phoenix Empire soldiers must’ve been _really_ difficult for you.”

“I was impersonating one of the soldiers at the time! You know how hard it was to fit in with those guys?! I had to pretend to _like_ their mouth-burning cuisine!”

…Spirits, this was strange: as it turned out, these people from the Azulon Poles bickered just like Phoenix Empire siblings did. At least, this conversation was reminiscent to how he and Azula used to bicker. Back before everything…changed.

He was actually grateful for it: already, he’d learned that there was someone named Suki who had stolen this war balloon from the Phoenix Empire, and this man—Sokka?—had helped her by impersonating one of the Empire’s soldiers. If Zuko memorized his face, once he got back home, he could have a wanted poster made to keep such a tactic from being employed ever again…

Sokka’s gaze abruptly switched to him. He blinked, like he was surprised.

“Er, Katara?” His voice dropped to a theatrical whisper as he said, “he’s looking at me.”

The waterbender’s eyes rolled so far to the back of her head, Zuko rather thought her sockets would swallow them. “So what? He’s not gonna bite you.”

“Well, yeah, but…” Sokka cleared his throat and shifted; it was clear he was uncomfortable. His eyes roamed over Zuko, sticking at his mouth. He frowned. “Why’d you gag him?”

“Oh gee, I dunno. Maybe to keep him from making noise that might get us caught?”

“Out here in the middle of nowhere?”

Katara turned away from the burner, her hands on her hips. Sokka shrank slightly under her gaze; Zuko was somehow heartened to find that even her own brother found her intimidating. Again, déjà vu.

“We kidnapped the _prince of the Empire,_ Sokka,” she enunciated, like she found him simple. “If they don’t have a fleet of ships out searching for him right now, I’d be surprised.”

Zuko scoffed without meaning to. He didn’t know how long he’d been unconscious, but he did know this: if his father wanted him to be found right away, he’d be back at the palace already.

Despite the fact that a part of him resented the likening to his father’s personality, Zuko _did_ understand how the man thought, to some degree. And he knew that these peasants needed him alive; he was no good as a bargaining chip if he was dead.

If Ozai was as calculated as Zuko knew him to be, he was having the war balloon followed, and he would wait until Zuko was brought to the North Azulon Poles. Then, he would decimate the place for the crime of kidnapping his son. Any excuse for brutality…

Their eyes were on him again, the waterbender’s narrowed in hate, her brother’s in…thought. Neither of them said anything. Zuko met their stares, his expression challenging. After a stare-down, Sokka was the first one to look away, frowning up at his sister.

“Regardless, we promised to bring him back alive.”

“I know,” the waterbender snapped; clearly, she regretted making such a promise. “I’m not stupid. He’s no good to us dead.”

Zuko tried to speak, but the damn gag was too effective. Sokka still had that speculative look in his eyes; when he suddenly leaned forward, the waterbender blocked his path, suspicious.

“What’re you doing?”

“We’re gonna be stuck up here for at least another day,” Sokka explained, attempting to push his way past his sister. “We might as well talk to him. Y’know, to try and gather intelligence.”

The waterbender’s lips pursed. “What intelligence? He’s just some spoiled prince.”

“He must know _some_ things,” Sokka reasoned, finally managing to slip past his sister. She made a noise of protest, and he threw her a look. “What? You said you won’t let him burn the basket, right?”

The waterbender grumbled, moving behind her brother.

“Wait,” she cautioned just as Sokka reached for the gag. He paused, watching as she breathed deep, closing her eyes for a moment. When they snapped open again, she had that look that she wore in the palace, the look right before she beckoned Zuko off the dais, and into her inviting, poisonous grasp—

Zuko seized up again, but this time, he could tell it wasn’t of his own volition. Especially as he watched her hands contort violently, unnaturally. As she held her hands in the air, like a puppeteer manning the strings connected to his body, she nodded to her brother, her eyes never leaving Zuko.

“All right,” she said. A shudder went through Sokka, and he hastily turned around, tugging the gag free.

“Well, Princey? What’ve you got to say?”

“You’re idiots,” Zuko wasted no time in spitting. The waterbending monster’s expression twitched, and Zuko felt his head slam sideways into the balloon’s basket. As he swore, Sokka flapped his hands at her.

“What did I say?!”

“He’s not dead,” she pointed out in a honeyed voice that dripped poison. Sokka gave her a look, and the waterbender made Zuko sit straight again, leaving another pounding beat to thrum through his skull, joining the timpani set by the continuous throbbing at the back of his head. Spirits, he fucking hated her.

“You laughed earlier when Katara mentioned a fleet of ships chasing you,” Sokka coaxed, still regarding Zuko with that thoughtful expression. “Why?”

At that reminder, Zuko snorted once more. “You would’ve been better off just killing me at the palace. Or kidnapping my sister. Not that you would’ve been able to.”

The waterbender blinked, then narrowed her eyes. “You’re the crown prince. Your sister is second-in-line.”

“Yeah, but everyone knows my father favors her,” Zuko said, sounding more resigned than bitter. “If anything, you’ve just handed him an excuse to name her his successor instead.”

The siblings exchanged a look. To Zuko’s surprise, they didn’t look disappointed, or even angry at this news. Their expressions were actually quite hard to read; aside from the flick of their eyebrows as they silently communicated with each other, they gave nothing away.

“I’m serious,” he insisted, the rasp of his voice doing little to be convincing. Still, he tried. “You might as well let me go. I’m next to useless as a bargaining chip.”

“Yeah, we’re not gonna do that,” Sokka drawled, his expression telling Zuko that it was a good try, if anything. “We still promised someone we’d bring you back alive.”

Well, this was news to him.

“Who?”

“Sokka,” the waterbender suddenly spoke. Sokka waved a careless hand and stood up.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Need to know.” He glanced up, abruptly frowning. “We’re heading too far east. Why are we heading too far east?”

The waterbender shrugged, her eyes still locked on Zuko. “It’s your pilfered balloon, not mine.”

Sokka let out a huff of frustration and went to the burner. He threw another glance Zuko’s way, tensed up tight like a wire, and turned to give his sister another look.

“Shouldn’t you…y’know, release him now?”

The waterbender’s lips pursed. Zuko stared back at her, wondering what horrors awaited him, now that she had him right where she obviously wanted him. It therefore surprised him when she suddenly let him go, snapping that invisible hold she had on him. He slumped forward in relief, only to straighten again, wary as she approached. As she crouched in front of him again, he stared back at her, equal parts horrified…and shamefully intrigued.

“…What _are_ you?” he asked, unable to help himself. Her expression didn’t change, her hands moving mechanically as she stuffed the gag back into his mouth and tied it around his head once more. But her eyes steadily burned, searing through him.

She hated him. That much was obvious. But that was just fine by Zuko.

At the end of the day, she could never hate him as much as he hated her. He would bet on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I see a lot of fics where Katara is the captive of the Fire Nation for some reason or another. Now that the shoe is on the other foot, I can't wait to explore this dynamic further. >:D
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! <3
> 
> ~Reyna


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M NOT DEAD.
> 
> For those of you who don't follow my tumblr (see my profile), you will be pleased to know that I finished the first draft of my current project. While I'm waiting for that to marinate (and because I'm DREADING having to edit this mess), I bequeath to you a short (for me) chapter of this Resistance AU, because I needed something with conflict, but like, not TOO much.
> 
> Enjoy! <3
> 
> ~Reyna

As it turned out, traveling with two waterbending siblings was _hell._

When they weren’t bickering—which was often—they were speaking in hushed tones on the other side of the small balloon basket, throwing furtive looks at Zuko whenever they thought they could get away with it. They didn’t speak to him, except for when the waterbender barked orders at him, or her brother announced that it was time for food. They didn’t feed him much; just enough to keep him too weak to properly fight. Zuko mostly sat there, letting his expression go slack as he stared at the woven wicker of the basket, plotting.

In any other situation, he might have acted rashly, just to see where his momentum would take him. That’s how he won a lot of his Agni Kais—with bold decisions that bordered on insanity half the time. But that was different; he _knew_ the enemy he was up against in those situations.

This situation was entirely other. The more rashly he acted, the greater the chance he would actually die. So he had to be smart about this.

Since the waterbender watched him like a dragonhawk the whole time, Zuko couldn’t chance trying to get a glimpse of their surroundings, so he relied on the stars when the night came. He promptly kicked himself for not paying more attention when his tutor had attempted to teach him astronomy when he could only recognize one or two constellations, and even then, those didn’t help him, because he couldn’t remember where their position in the sky indicated that he was.

A couple days of this, and he was forced to realize the truth that had been glaring at him while he desperately averted his eyes: he was at the complete mercy of his kidnappers. Whether he lived or died was completely up to them, no matter how much the brother reminded his seething sister that they needed him alive.

Zuko had taken to morbidly wondering just how much they would harm him to achieve their mysterious goals. Would they send him back to his father, piece by piece, until he gave into their demands? How much of Zuko would it take for that to happen? Or was he to be completely dismantled, like an old war ship, sold for scraps because his father was too proud or too cruel to negotiate with his kidnappers? Would this be how Zuko met his untimely end…?

‘ _It’s an honor to die for the Phoenix Empire. Really, Zuzu, you’re a prince. Stop sulking._ ’

Zuko huffed. Of course Azula was here to taunt him, even if she wasn’t actually present. He couldn’t help but feel like she would’ve found a way out of this by now, if the kidnappers had the sense or misfortune to go after _her._

A sudden drop in altitude jolted Zuko out of his commiserating thoughts. He glanced up in time to see the waterbender approach, her mouth that harsh line that he’d gotten used to.

“Hold still or I’ll make you,” she threatened as Zuko squirmed back away from her. He stiffened at the thought of her unnatural control over him, shuddering. What manner of monster was she? He was still trying to figure it out.

When he didn’t shy away from her again, the waterbender removed another scrap from her outfit—just how much of it was she going to take off…?—and tied it around Zuko’s head, this time over his eyes instead of his mouth. That was when Zuko understood: they were landing.

Strange…he expected to feel cold, but he wasn’t. Did this mean that they hadn’t made it to the Northern Azulon Pole yet?

‘ _Maybe they’ve run out of supplies,_ ’ he thought, his swooping stomach telling him that they were steadily sinking out of the sky. ‘ _If we’re stopping at a port of some kind, I can try to get away._ ’

That proved to be foolish optimism on his part: the minute the balloon touched down and the brother hauled him to his feet, the way Zuko stumbled indicated that there was no way he’d be fighting free of anything. They still had him chained, and he could neither see nor speak; if all he could rely on was his hearing, there was no way he’d be able to escape.

“Watch your step,” the brother—Sokka—warned belatedly as he nudged Zuko from behind. This advice was effectively useless, as Zuko couldn’t see, so of course he stumbled when he was nudged forward. “Whoops. Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Quit fooling around,” the waterbender snapped at Zuko’s side, “we’re already running late.”

“All right, all right. Sheesh, you always get crankier the fuller the moon gets—ouch!”

“Anything else to say?”

“Yeah: I feel sorry for the poor chump who ends up marrying you!”

Just as Zuko’s head began to throb at the prospect of another pointless fight between the siblings, the earth shifted. Literally: beneath his feet, the earth rumbled, trembled, and _split apart._ Zuko yelped, but he had no control over his body; Sokka ended up dragging him backwards, onto ground that felt more stable. As soon as things stopped shaking, he heard a huff of exasperation.

“I knew it was you two. Seriously, d’you know how _loud_ you’ve gotta be if I can hear you from _underground?_ ”

Zuko froze. Earthbenders too? Just who _were_ these people?

“Nice to see you too, Toph. Oh, and our mission was successful, thanks so much for asking.”

“No duh, Snoozles. I may be blind, but I can still hear three heartbeats.” Soft footsteps approached. Zuko tugged uselessly at his bindings, hating the feeling of a stranger so close to him. “So this is him, huh?”

“Yep.”

“I always thought he might be taller.”

“Like you can actually tell the difference?”

“I can, actually.”

“…Okay, explain this ‘sensing’ thing to me one more time.”

“There’s no time for that,” the waterbender snapped. Zuko was beginning to think she had only one mood: irritation. “We’ve gotta get out of the open.”

“Why, were you followed?”

“Not that we know of, but we can’t risk it. We already look suspicious, out here in the middle of—”

“Shh!” the waterbender cut Sokka off. He abruptly fell silent, and Zuko could feel eyes on the back of his head. Interesting how they were afraid to say too much in front of him; maybe he wasn’t as completely at their mercy as he thought.

“Welp, don’t let me stop you. C’mon in.”

The stranger moved away from Zuko, and he was pushed forward once again. He halted, however, when his feet encountered a ledge of some sort. Wait—where were they taking him?

His refusal to move forward, despite Sokka’s pushing, seemed to drain the last bit of what passed as patience from the waterbender. Before Zuko knew it, he was stiff as a board, and not of his own volition. He cursed the waterbender a thousand times over as he was dragged past the ledge, and somewhere into deep darkness.

There was an eerie glow seeping past his blindfold. Zuko couldn’t be sure, but through the red fabric, he rather thought it was some sort of green. He didn’t understand it, nor did he understand the strage way the footsteps of his kidnappers echoed all around him. It was oddly nostalgic. Zuko didn’t have a proper explanation for why until he remembered: it sounded like the bunker underneath the palace, which he, his father, and his sister had hidden to await the end of the Day of Black Sun. A small rebellion of a few dedicated individuals had broken out then, but none of them ever made it past the gate to the palace. Zuko thought a few of them might still be rotting away in jail, but it had been ten years; his memory was fuzzy.

Behind him, his kidnappers spoke in tones that were meant to be hushed, but either they didn’t care that he could still hear them, or they had grossly underestimated the echoing of…wherever they were, because the words floated towards him anyway:

“…Just went on a supply run last week,” the new voice was saying; the presumed earthbender—Toph?—sounded young, female, and impetuous, and Zuko’s nose wrinkled at the strong smell of dirt that seemed to surround her. “Ran into a few problems, but the Freedom Fighters swooped in with the last-minute save.”

“Ugh,” the waterbender scoffed.

“Hey, just because you broke up with Jet doesn’t mean he’s not still useful,” Sokka chided. A yelp of pain from him the next moment indicated that the waterbender had exacted swift revenge for his audacity.

“Mostly, people have been waiting for you guys to get back,” Toph continued, ignoring the interruption. “The Prince of the Phoenix Empire…you guys are gonna be popular. ‘Specially with the newbies.”

“Aw yeah,” Sokka enthused, sounding pleased with himself, “all the ladies love a war hero.”

“Put your arms down, idiot,” the waterbender huffed. “Suki’s not here; there’s no one for you to show off for.”

“I can admire my biceps on my own, thank you.”

The waterbender’s sigh of exasperation was lost to the sudden swell of noise that swept over the group. Zuko was yanked to a stop, and the green light past his blindfold got stronger. He felt more open air around him, and a much, _much_ larger flurry of activity. People were shouting indistinctly to each other; what sounded like some sort of drill was occurring nearby, complimented with stomping feet and calls in response to orders; some sort of clamor was occurring nearby, accompanied by something that made Zuko’s mouth water, he was so hungry. Some of the din lessened for a moment, but then surged again as shouts of welcome and mutters of shock sounded all around them.

“Hey! They’re back!”

“I can’t believe they didn’t get caught…”

“Is that who I think it is?!”

Zuko grew claustrophobic as foreign bodies pressed upon him once again, touching his clothes, invading his space. He wanted to growl and spit fire at all of them, but the Agni-damned waterbender was _still_ holding him hostage in her own twisted way, so there was nothing he could do but clench his teeth and wait for it to be over.

“Now, now. Give the young man some space, will you?”

Zuko blinked behind his blindfold, shocked. That voice…

“May I, Master Katara?”

The waterbender shuffled her feet behind him.

“Are you sure?”

“If you please.”

Suddenly, the blindfold fell away. Zuko blinked rapidly, the sudden brightness causing him to cringe. It didn’t take long for his eyes to adjust, however, and, finding that he could suddenly move his neck, he took in his surroundings.

This had to be the largest cavern he had ever seen. Glowing green crystals sprouted from literally every surface, and there were faces upon faces upon _faces_ pointed at him, young, old, angry, and frightened. But the face directly in front of him—the only face he cared about—beamed like it had only been yesterday since they’d last seen each other.

Zuko’s mouth cracked open, and he managed to utter a single word:

“Uncle.”

His Uncle Iroh’s smile grew, pride radiating from his every pore.

“It has been too long, my nephew.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all probably knew this was coming. Still, I will never not love Zuko and Iroh reuniting after spending time apart. ;_;
> 
> A'right, I gotta return to being a responsible adult. (Boooo.) Hope you enjoyed! <3
> 
> ~Reyna

**Author's Note:**

> This is yet another one of those ideas that I can never properly dedicate the time and effort to, because I have to work for a living, goddamn it.
> 
> Either way, it still intrigues me. Maybe I'll find time for it if you guys wanna see more of it.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> ~Reyna


End file.
